As is

Murder She Wrote plays in the background. I can hear content snoring in the next room. The dogs are warm and cozy. Our doors are locked and all points of entry accounted for. I have random cricks in my body but keeping my body flat in bed feels best.

I have had extreme amount of stress the last few weeks.

  • Stalker-type guy
  • Work
  • Bad physical symptoms
  • Family shit
  • Painsomnia
  • Confusion (mental)

Yet in this exact moment I see that this is it. This is life. Life on life’s terms. Or my new expression: Life “as is.”

It’s not a discount or bargain.

It’s strange, frightening, yet real and unexpected. I don’t think I’ve yet found a show or movie more interesting than life. I do enjoy the escape of a good story or the fun mental game of critiquing a horribly made movie (or just sitting back and enjoying it as ear/eye candy).

The other night I had a dream about crazy legs. Somehow we worked it out that I would visit him in his city. When I got there he was drinking beer and trying to setup a place for us to watch a movie. I said “hey, I’m not looking for any funny business.” Then in the dream he suddenly had legs. Crazy legs doesn’t have legs in real life. I’ve never seen him with them. It was so strange to see him with them. What does it mean?

Today at a crafts store a young man helped me a few times. He was very kind and smart. Deep voice for such a petite skinny kid. I noticed as he was scanning my goods that he was missing an arm. It was hidden in his sweatshirt. There was nothing in that sleeve.

Exactly one hour after that encounter I learned that a coworker lost his FINGER on the job. I can’t believe it. Dismemberment. Lost limbs. As is.

I know it’s not pretty like unicorns or glittery flowers. It’s not gentle like vanilla lavender Jasmin perfume or supple like a woman’s breast. Life as is, perhaps there is such profound peace and depth in the ugly, disfigured, bloody gore of life. Maybe we are all lying to ourselves to only show the pure, “white” side. What if being ugly was normalized. Physically ugly. Emotionally ugly. What if they aren’t ugly but natural states of being. What if mass media, consumerism, and advertising are unnatural, conspiring to make us think we need what they sell to be more… But we already have “the more”! It is inside you, me, anyone seeking.

We need to sit still long enough to hear it. I have been told it’s not why, but how.

How can I reconcile my human nature, my darkness, and my brightness?

My mantra this week:

Be ugly. Be love. Be you.

Good night my friends.

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